Read Online Exile's Children by Angus Wells - Free Book Online

encouraged by Lhyn’s frankness, said, “And so no reason to quit this warm lodge.”
    She felt her cheeks grow hot at her boldness, and was glad of Lhyn’s approving smile.
    Lhyn said, “It should be a mother’s pleasure to feed you both.”
    â€œAnd therefore”—Arrhyna allowed her covering fur to slip a fraction—“we’ve no reason to go out. Save you grow bored, husband.”
    Rannach swallowed, his scowl quite lost under the flush that suffused his cheeks. Arrhyna saw Lhyn fighting laughter and let the fur slip father.
    â€œAch!” Rannach cleared his throat noisily, looking from one woman to the other as if torn between amusement and embarrassment—and perhaps, also, irritation. He threw up his hands. “I am defeated. Do you ask it, Mother, then so be it. Tell my father I shall quit this tent only to so what I must, naught else. But I shall attend the Council.”
    â€œAll shall attend that,” Lhyn said gravely, “for it shall affect all. But my thanks; I’ll advise your father of your decision.”
    Rannach nodded. Arrhyna said, “I’ve not yet prepared our breakfast,” and blushed anew. “But do you give me a moment …”
    â€œStay there, daughter.” Lhyn waved her back as she moved to rise. “Let me honor my promise—I’ll bring you food betimes.” She smiled and favored Arrhyna with a private look. “And leave it outside, eh?”
    â€œThank you,” Arrhyna said.
    Lhyn rose and was gone. Rannach laced the lodge flap tight behind her and loosed his breeches. Arrhyna threw back the sleeping furs, but when he came to her she set a hand against his chest and said, “Tell me of your father.”
    â€œMy father?” Rannach’s face was a mockery of outrage. Arrhyna thought it not entirely assumed. “You’d discuss my father now?”
    â€œI’d know what stands between you,” she said, fending off his Tachyn would argue Chakthi’s wishes like that.”
    â€œWe are not like the Tachyn,” Rannach said.
    â€œNo.” It was difficult to ignore his exploring hands, the touch of his lips against her skin. “But it is more than that. There is something stands between you and your father that sets you to bristling like a dog with hackles raised.”
    â€œSo I am a dog now?” Rannach’s voice was muffled against her breasts. “Your husband is a dog?”
    â€œDogs are not so strong,” she said, fastening her hands in his unbound hair that she might draw his face up. “Dogs are not such great warriors, nor such mighty hunters—nor so handsome. But dogs acknowledge a leader.”
    â€œI am a man,” he said.
    Doggedly, she thought, and almost laughed, but stifled the sound for fear she offend him. “Tell me, husband. Please? I am come a stranger into you clan, and I’d know these things.”
    Rannach sighed and gave up his amorous expedition. He rolled onto his back, settling an arm beneath her shoulders. Arrhyna turned into his embrace, running fingers through his hair. Which, she thought with pride, she would braid later, and he be the most handsome warrior in all the Meeting Ground.
    He said, “My father is a wise man. He is a great warrior who leads our clan as could no other. I am not like him, but he’d have me so. I lack his patience, his wisdom. I cannot be he, and so I am a disappointment to him.”
    Arrhyna said, “No!”
    â€œYes! He’d school me that I become akaman when he grows too old, but I’d not shoulder that responsibility.”
    â€œIt should be a great honor,” Arrhyna said. “Already Chakthi names Vachyr his successor; and I think the Tachyn shall not argue him.”
    â€œI am not Vachyr!” Rannach’s voice was suddenly harsh; she tensed against him, abruptly aware of things she had not sensed before. “Nor is my father